All is fair in Love and Friendship
by audiojunkie
Summary: My first go at fanfic. Constructive criticism appreciated. Harry's stomach is practising advanced gymnastic moves, Ron is more confused than ever and Hermione is so sure of herself that she hasn't taken the time to get to know herself. Finished!
1. Morning mumblings

The sun was waking, and Hogwart's frosted grounds were warming themselves to a new day. On the surface, everything was tranquil. A number of owls were returning to the tower after a hard night's hunting, the surface of the vast lake was an eerie, iced grey, and the castle was silent, but for the frantic breathing of a certain 16 year old.

The young boy, with unkempt jet-black hair and piercing green eyes, had recently woken from another of his disturbing nightmares. The nightmares that have been haunting him of recent though, are not of Voldemort chasing after him with a sharpened wand, but of him falling in love. With _Hermione._

The dreams were always the same. He'd be standing at the bottom of the great staircase, all trussed up in a tuxedo, and then Hermione would walk gracefully down the stairs, her elegant midnight-blue dress dancing lightly on each step as she made her way down to him. After reaching the same level, he would take her laced hand and lead her out into the gardens, where each bush was covered in glowing pixies. Then, without fail, Hermione would turn to Harry, flash one of her amazingly warm smiles at him, and then begin to say something.

But before Hermione could say anything, Harry woke up. Each and every time he had that dream; he would always wake up before she had said anything. And what worried Harry the most was that he would wake up, and find himself _smiling. _Smiling, at the way his stomach did this glorious flip every time she looked at him, smiling, at how beautiful she was.

He felt himself regain control of his breathing, his chest easing it's rapid rising and falling pattern, his heart return to it's normal pace.

"What's my subconscious trying to do to me? Me, Fall in love with Hermione! Yeah, like that's gonna happen any day soon." His thoughts rambled on in this tedious track as he quietly got up and dressed.

Once fully robed, Harry glanced with an edge of unease over at a ball of messy red hair peeping over the covers in the four-poster next to his own empty one. "How the hell does he breathe!" Harry absent-mindedly thought to himself as he exited the dormant room.

He padded down the stone steps into the - what he expected to be deserted - common room. His eyes wandered around the room as he made his way to the portrait. However, several meters short of the portrait, he stopped abruptly as his eyes fell on smooth brown curls and his ears picked up a gentle breathing. He turned to face the sleeping hair, and found that it wasn't a ball of wavy brown hair that had miraculously learned to breathe, but Hermione, asleep in the chair that he and Ron had left her studying fervently in late the night before.

He pondered to himself for a moment, and then went and sat down in the chair opposite her. He noticed that she had fallen asleep on one of the open books that surrounded her, which all seemed to be on transfiguration.

Harry punished himself with a mental kick as he was painfully reminded of the Transfiguration exam McGonnagall had set a few days before. The exam he had, yet again, done no work for. Well, surely McGonnagall would understand that he had other things on his mind. Who was he kidding? He was hardly going to explain the _reason _why he had been getting hardly any sleep of late, thus leaving no extra energy for revision.

In a moment of angry frustration at himself, he slammed his head down onto the desk, and Hermione's previously sleeping head looked up abruptly.

"But sir, Malfoy stole my diced newt's liver!" said a dishevelled ball of hair.

Harry couldn't help looking up and laughing uncontrollably at Hermione's waking words.

"Harry! What time is it?" Hermione started fumbling around getting her books in order. "You should've woken me! Why were you just sitting there opposite me! Oh gosh, have I missed the exam? Oh, I'll have to re-schedule it for some other time, but I really need the extra time to study more on the laws against pensions for House-Elves, and then there's the 3000 word essay Binn's gave us on the revolutions led by Ogres, which I've only managed 12 sides of parchment on so far, and, oh, is Ron still mad at me for saying he has a somewhat girlish yelp? I didn't mean it, I swear, it's just that it was such a _tiny _spider, and it only had six legs, so I thought he'd find it funny when I pointed it out to him. I really should stop trying this humour tactic; it simply doesn't work, does it? I suppose I'm just not very funny… why are you looking at me like that Harry? Is there something on my face…?"

Harry regained his senses at the sound of his name to find himself staring at Hermione as if she was the most beautiful creature on the planet. Which, of course, to Harry, she was, even if he wouldn't admit it yet. He paused a few seconds to process the confused garble that had just come spilling out of Hermione's mouth, and attempted a somewhat stuttered reply.

"It's 6:47 am, and I didn't want to wake you because you looked so beautiful whilst you were sleeping. I was sitting opposite you so I could gaze in wonderment at your magnificent beauty without anyone wondering why, or asking questions. Who cares if we both miss the exam? We should spend every waking minute and every sleeping hour of every day together. Stop talking about Ron, I'm sure he's gotten over it, besides, why do you care so much what he thinks? You must know how much I care for you. And you don't need to be funny, you're intelligent and pretty and talented and mesmerising. And I'm looking at you because I never noticed before how much the colour of your eyes resembles the depths of the ocean, complete with amber flecks of light."

At least, that what he found himself wanting to say. "Come on, idiot. She's still waiting for some sort of verbal reply! Talk!" he thought to himself as he searched his mind for something remotely intelligent to say.

"Uhm, uh… 6:50am." He mumbled as he glanced at his watch and suddenly became very interested in his shoes.

"Oh. Okay, thanks Harry." Hermione replied, understandably somewhat puzzled that it took Harry three minutes to say three words, two of which she wasn't even sure counted as actual words. "Do you want to go down to breakfast now?" Hermione continued, now in full control of her speech - and the pace of it.

"Yeah, okay." Harry mumbled, almost incoherently.

As the two were standing up to leave for Breakfast, they stopped in their tracks as they heard a muffled THWACK-KADOOF-BOOM-FLOOPLE-PLUNK-"ooof!"

They frowned simultaneously as they hesitantly made their way toward the bottom of the staircase that lead to the boys' dormitory.

"Ron? Are you alright?" Hermione called out tentatively.

"oooowwwwwwwwwwwww. Fleeping. Hursht. Elp." Replied Ron The Caveman.

Hermione turned to Harry for a translation.

"He said he must have been sleep walking because he only woke mid-fall. He says it really hurts, and he wants some help trying to get up." Said Harry, whilst Hermione stared at him in amazement that he managed to deduct all that information from a few incoherent grunts.

Harry and Hermione went to Ron and helped him off the ground. No mean feat, especially now Ron had taken on the stature of a rugby player and had grown to about 6 and half feet.

"Ron, what on earth happened to you?" Hermione inquired, with a concerned expression. Rather _too _concerned for Harry's liking.

"I …Uhm … nothing. Doesn't matter. Be back down in a minute." Ron replied, looking neither of them in the eye and proceeding to ascend the stone stairs to the dormitory.

Harry and Hermione watched as Ron's surly figure vanished from view, and shot each other amused glances.

They stood in a rather awkward silence whilst waiting for Ron to return, and Harry entertained himself by watching Crookshanks trying to climb the large stone mantelpiece at the far corner of the room.

"Crookshanks! NO!" Hermione called out, preceding a frantic run towards the large ginger ball of matted fur.

But it was too late. The large box of paper labels that read lines such as "make house-elf pensions fair" and "end this criminal injustice" came tumbling down onto a smiling Crookshanks. Apparently, being showered in S.P.E.W badges-in-progress was exactly what he had always dreamed of.


	2. Divination Daydreams

"Oh, that's just brilliant, isn't it? Divination first thing. What a wonderful start to a new term." Moaned Ron, when the trio received their new timetables at breakfast.

"Well, you should've chosen something worthwhile, like I did, instead of moaning about it, Ronald." Replied Hermione haughtily.

Ron scowled at her. "My name, is NOT Ronald!"

"Well I hate to - " Hermione was about to reply abruptly, but was cut off by a boy who recognised this kind of situation all too well.

"We better get going then, we have to get right up to the tower. See you later, Hermione." Said Harry, breaking into what looked liked turning into another bickering match between Ron and Hermione.

Twenty minutes later, the boys were climbing the stairs to the divination tower with relevant books weighing their arms down.

"Fred and George reckon the Chudley Canons have a really good chance this Quidditch season." Ron puffed as they came to a stop outside the door.

"That's a little optimistic of you, isn't it Ron?" Cut in Seamus.

"No! I mean, I know they didn't do so well last season … but that wasn't their fault!"

"Oh yeah? Who's fault was it then?" Seamus replied cheekily.

Ron's expression scanned through a few emotions and settled on "somewhat disgruntled" as Seamus went back to laughing with Dean about something.

"I predict that in the next week your pet penguin will learn how to morph into a giant lizard and eat you." Said Ron, amongst the quiet chatter of fortune telling going on in the classroom.

Harry, rousing from his delightfully enjoyable nap, looked up at Ron.

"Well, it'll make a nice change from duelling with dark lords. And I could do with a change of scenery."

Ron was just about to burst out laughing when he felt an authoritarian presence behind him. On realising it was in fact Professor Trelawney, he quickly changed his laughing into a sudden outburst of extreme coughing. Harry hid his smile as Professor Trelawney sat down at their table and looked at Harry's tealeaves.

"Oh my!", she began at once. "Oh how wonderfully exciting!"

Harry frowned. Predictions of his demise didn't usually come accompanied with obvious excitement and a smile from his personal death-calendar.

"Professor, what - " He began.

"My dear, in the next month," she paused in an attempt to make what she next said seem terribly exciting, "Venus will be moving into its second orbit!" She squealed.

"Right. Er. I mean … that's, er …really good?" Harry was stumped.

"My dear, really good doesn't do this justice! This means that in the next month, the love of your life will reveal itself to you. Your soulmate. The one you are destined to be with for the _rest_ of you life!" Professor Trelawney giggled girlishly.

Harry didn't know what to do. He just sat. And stared. In utter, hideous embarrassment. The rest of the class had gone silent some minutes back, and while Ron pained himself to hide his fits of laughter opposite Harry, the rest of the class was listening attentively to predictions about his love life. The girls all had dreamy looks on their faces, as if that was the kind of prediction _they_ wanted to hear every lesson, and the boys smirked, thanking Merlin that it was Harry and not one of them.


	3. Common Room Kerfuffle

"Ronald! Would you please slow down! We can't understand you!" Snapped Hermione, for about the fifth time that lunch. Harry had given up trying to prevent their petty squabbles. It was more than his troubles worth, and besides, he was having a much more entertaining time wallowing in his own embarrassment and trying to be as invisible as possible.

Ron paused, glared at Hermione, and continued to shovel food into his mouth with as much gentlemanly manner as a famished baboon. Hermione simply sniffed and turned to Harry.

"Are you alright Harry? You seem sort of …distant. You haven't been having any more dreams about …well, about, you-know-who, have you?" Said Hermione gently. Harry could hear genuine concern in her voice.

Nearly spot on, as always. Hermione could read his moods like a book. Except, the subject of his dreams wasn't as obvious for her to guess this time. Harry considered his reply for a moment, and forced a smile.

"No, it's okay, really. I'm fine." He said simply, and returned to shifting his food about on his plate.

"Well … if you're sure you're okay. Ronald and I have to go to the library for the afternoon. We have to get some research done for that Potions project Snape set us last lesson. I don't know why on _earth_ Snape paired me with Ron, I really don't." Hermione said, as she stood up, collected her things and beckoned Ron to do the same.

Harry smiled as Hermione walked towards the doors and Ron grunted; "See you later mate, if I survive."

The common room was emptying, the embers of the fire were glowing faintly and Harry was sitting alone in the corner with his Transfiguration books spread out in front of him. He'd done so badly in the test that McGonnagall insisted he study hard for next lesson, when he would retake it. He was in a hideous mood, and somehow the thought of Ron and Hermione being in the library together for so many hours made him feel even more sour.

"Night Harry." Fred mumbled tiredly as he pushed past Harry's chair.

"Yeah, night George. I mean Fred. Whatever. Night." Harry grumbled, staring into his page.

An hour or so later, after staring in vain at the information that refused to process through his brain, Harry began to shove his books into his bag. Just as he was doing this, someone in a mood even more disgruntled than his stormed through the portrait hole in a flurry of curls, books, and what looked to Harry like tears.

"Hermione? You alright? I thought - " But Harry was cut off mid-sentence by an uncharacteristically emotional outburst.

"Oh Harry! Why does Ron have to be such a horrible _boy _all the time? The insufferable thing! We couldn't agree on a single thing, so I was trying to get the entire project done by myself and Ron wasn't helping at all and then he disappeared for ages and I couldn't manage it by myself, but he wasn't there to help and I …Oh! Why must he be so hideously difficult all the time!" Hermione ended helplessly. She collapsed into the chair Harry had vacated when she came storming into the room.

Harry moved his weight from foot to foot in a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then realised this was what he had been waiting for. After all, wasn't it written in his tealeaves? He set his bag down on the table, and slowly moved towards Hermione. He knelt down beside the chair she was sitting in and leant on one of the arms. He looked at her for a moment before speaking.

"Ron doesn't mean to be how he is. You know how awkward he gets sometimes… he can't help it…"

"Yes, Harry, he bloody can help it! He doesn't have to be such an insolent little boy all the time! Why can't he just GROW UP!" Hermione paused for breath and regained her senses. "Oh, Harry. I'm so sorry. All this arguing…I don't know where it's all coming from. Before, it was different. We just had… disagreements. Harry, you would tell me if he hated me, wouldn't you? He'd tell you. He tells you everything." Hermione ended bitterly.

A few more moments of silence passed, and Harry contemplated his reply. He took her hand gently.

"Hermione, Ron just has trouble dealing with things. He is maturing, that's the problem. He must be finding it hard to deal with all this …all this new stuff that's going on." Harry knew full well what this 'stuff' was. But he was going to do his best to keep it from Hermione.

Hermione smiled as she wiped the tears from her face with the sleeve of her free hand. "Thanks Harry." She replied simply.

Harry stood up and turned to get his bag. "Harry?" Hermione said as she stood.

"…Yeah?"

"Harry, I … well …"

"…What?" Harry urged her carefully.

"Oh, it doesn't matter." Hermione ended. Before heading up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, she turned to Harry and embraced him in a tight hug.

Harry floated his arms about uselessly before wrapping them round her. He never wanted to let go. He breathed her in, her scent, her beauty, her sensitivity. As she was pulling away, he was engulfed in a flurry of emotion and leant down to kiss her.

Timing perfect as always, a certain redheaded boy with some emotional issues came bursting through the portrait hole at that very moment.

"Harry! HERMIONE! What… what the…!" He floundered helplessly, lost for words.

Hermione pulled herself away from Harry, and with a glance of despair at Ron, hurried up the stairs to her dormitory.

"Ron, I …It's … I mean we were just …"

"I know what you were doing. I bloody saw you. After everything I've said!" And with an angry grunt, Ron stormed up the stairs to the boys' dormitory.

Harry's eyes wandered aimlessly. His heart dropped into oblivion and his head pounded. He picked up his bag, and stumbled up to bed, in the vain hope that in the morning everything would be as it used to.


	4. Ican'tthinkofadecentchaptername

**A/N: So, the final chapter is up! All thanks to Bec, who saved me from the nightmare that this chapter once was. If you've enjoyed it, review! If you haven't enjoyed it, review!**

* * *

When Harry woke, the dormitory was empty. He supposed the others must have gone down to the hall already. He got up in an oddly cheerful mood and began to get dressed. Just as he was pulling on his right sock and humming tunelessly, everything that had happened the night before dawned upon his groggy brain. He collapsed down onto his bed and rested his head in his hands. He pondered his own stupidity and humiliation for a moment, before going into autopilot and heading down to breakfast. 

The mood at the table was less than friendly. In fact, it could correctly be described as hideously uncomfortable. The hall was half empty, Hermione was sitting between Ginny and Angelina, and Ron was sitting between Dean and George. Both Ron and Dean scowled at Harry as he passed, while Hermione simply glanced up and looked away sharply. Harry sat down by himself further up the table. He couldn't understand why the other two seemed to think that they were the victims and he was the bad guy. He'd done nothing wrong. That's how he saw it, anyway.

The rest of the day carried a similar pattern. He did his best to go unnoticed and avoid confrontation. During lunch, instead of going to the hall as was his normal routine; he decided to go to the library to study for the Transfiguration exam that he was yet to pass. He settled at a small round table near the back and pulled some relevant-looking books off the nearest shelf. He didn't really care what he was reading, it gave him somewhere to put his eyes and look like he was incredibly busy and not at all bothered about what was going on with Hermione and Ron. And for this he was eternally grateful. A few other students were shuffling around in the library, some chatting quietly and some sitting alone, just like himself.

After about twenty minutes of staring at one particularly dull page, he decided that a new book was necessary. He rose and moved to a bookshelf diagonal to his table. His eyes scanned slowly along the rows of books, before he finally settled on one at eye level by Professor Davgo-Hugies. His hand reached up to pull it carefully from the shelf. As he did so, he could see a tuft of red hair in the gap it left in the shelf. It was too late. The owner of the tuft looked up as he sensed movement, and the boys' eyes met immediately.

Ron frowned at Harry in silence. His eyes shifted to the side and he stood awkwardly motionless. Harry knew what was coming, and he knew what he had to do.

"It's not what you think, I don't know what happened … it's all such a blur. I wasn't thinking about it. She was just so upset, and I thought …well … I don't really know what I thought…"

"Right. Yeah;" Ron muttered. His voice was quite and cold.

"Ron I-"

"What, you're sorry? Oh, how bloody gracious of you." Ron blushed suddenly at his outburst and looked down at his hands.

Harry moved round the side of the bookshelf, so the two boys could talk properly in the fading light of the oil lamps.

"I don't know why I did it. I wasn't thinking. I mean, I really wasn't thinking. I just sort of … it just …happened …" Harry trailed off, unable to put into words all the thoughts that were whirling around in his head.

Ron looked up suddenly. "I know why you did it, Harry. You always have to go one better than me, don't you? Only natural that you should get the girl now, isn't it?" He looked Harry in the eyes for the first time since the conversation started. "God, what was I thinking? How the fuck was she going to notice me when The Boy Who Lived is my best bloody friend?"

Harry was shocked, but he knew he should've expected something like this. After all, he'd tried to kiss the girl his best friend was in love with. And that made him feel just wonderful.

The two stood in silence as the library slowly emptied around them. Harry knew what he had to do to break the silence.

"Listen, there's something you should know – "

"Harry, it's fine. Whatever." Ron was doing his best to sound nonchalant. "If you want to … you know, just do it, okay? I don't – "

"But Ron, that's just it. I don't want to. Maybe I did, for just a moment, but I've been thinking about it so much and I … well, I don't know what I want. But it's definitely not _that_."

Ron brightened.

"Before you walked into the common room, she was crying. She was distraught; I don't know what you did to make her break down like that. But I was trying to repair the damage for you. Just as I was heading towards the dormitory, she was about to say something. I dunno. She must have decided against it. But when I … when I tried to … you know, kiss her …"

Ron looked at Harry expectantly.

"She pulled away. Just as you were walking through the portrait hole, just as I was about to kiss her, she pulled away." Harry's words were met with a questioning stare from Ron, followed by a small smile.

"Are you… are you sure? I mean… really!" Ron questioned in glorious disbelief.

"Yeah. Yeah, Ron. I'm sure of it." Harry replied, trying to sound unaffected.

"I …I don't know what to … I mean, what shall I …" Apparently, this little snippet had destroyed Ron's ability to speak in full sentences.

"Ron. I think you might want to go and find her, don't you?" Harry replied.

"Yeah. Yeah…that's what I'll do." Ron's smile broadened as realisation dawned. He started towards the library doors. He stopped after a few steps and turned round.

"Thanks mate," he said simply, and carried on through the doors.

"Anytime." Harry said quietly to himself.


End file.
